


Nothing Like The Rest

by t0bemadeofglass



Category: Marvel (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Sex, Double Penetration, F/M, Object Insertion, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-06
Updated: 2015-01-06
Packaged: 2018-03-06 07:30:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3126137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/t0bemadeofglass/pseuds/t0bemadeofglass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For once, Natasha's more than happy her plan backfired</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nothing Like The Rest

**Author's Note:**

> So, the fic is inspired entirely by this: http://www.goodvibes.com/display_product.jhtml?id=1-3-BA-1419&lref=Cat_catalog70002_cat33827_ALLPRODUCTS_6#fulldescription  
> I saw that at first and cackled, thinking it would be hilarious to write a fic about Nat using that to goad Thor into responding. Then it took a life of its own and voila! This fic was born. Thanks so much for reading and I hope you like!

She means it as a joke initially.  Really, she does, and when the product is dropped off in a (surprisingly) discreet box she can hardly contain her own excitement at her plan.  Thor’s due back at any minute as she hastily shimmies out of her jeans behind the closed door of her room.  Her shirt and bra come off and join the rest of her clothing in the corner, and she smooths out the blankets before she places the hammer inspired dildo on the comforter.  She can hear Thor growing closer and mutters for Jarvis to distract him.  Bless the AI for listening, she thinks, as she slips off her panties and her hands shake ever-so slightly with anticipation as she opens the side table and pulls out the bottle of lube.  SHe warms it between her fingers before sliding it up the thick shaft of her newest toy.  It’s heavy, pleasantly so, and weighted at the bottom to keep it in place.  Hefting herself up onto the bed she positions herself just before it, biting her bottom lip as she slides herself up onto the tip.  Shit.  It isn’t anything she can’t handle (it pales in comparison to Thor that’s for sure) but she isn’t quite warmed up yet and it takes her by surprise.  She’s just slid down another inch or so, groaning softly, one hand massaging her bare breast as her the pointer finger of her other circles her clit, when the door handle turns and Thor stands, stock still, staring with open amazement at the sight in front of him.  She grins, let out a breathy, half-moaned greeting as she slides down another couple inches, half of the hilt buried inside of her making her whimper at the sensation.  She has to admit that the ribbing of the silicon, though it hadn’t quite convinced her when she’d looked at it, is quite a lot more pleasing than she’d anticipated as she tightens around it and slips down the last few inches.  Mm, _yes_.  

“Shut the door, yeah?” She moans.  “Unless you want your little brother to see me like this.”  

That gets his attention.  His hands are quick to shut the door and lock it, the click resounding through the room as she begins to lift herself up.  The head of the fake hammer is heavy enough that she doesn’t even have to hold it down, and her back arches as she feels the last few inches slip out from inside her, gravity doing most of the work for once.  Thor’s eyes never leave hers, his mouth gaping as he watches her rise onto her shaking haunches, revealing the silicone, now slicked up with her arousal.

“This pleases you?”  He asks, voice gruffer than he means it to be.  He clears it, and she looks down demurely.  One of his hands catches her chin and lifts it enough so that he can kiss her.  It’s harder than she’s expecting, though she doesn’t complain as he threads his fingers through her hair and pulls her so that she’s forced off of her new toy entirely.  With hooded eyes, she watches him run a finger up the length of the toy and press it past his lips, tasting her.  Her mouth goes dry as she watches him feel the balance of the hammer, sitting down on the bed and trying not to preen under his attention.  

“Where did you get this creation?”  He asks, putting it down on the side table just beside the bed.  His fingers flex, as though longing for the familiar weight of his own Mjolnir, and she wonders why he doesn’t simply call the hammer to him.  

“I bought it off a shop online.  I guess you inspired them in a great many ways,” she says with a chuckle, waggling her eyebrows playfully as she slips closer to him.  Her hands are quick as they work to undo the button of his jeans, riding so low it makes her mouth water to already see the deep v of his hips.  He takes her hands in his and pulls them away, tugging her up so that he can crush his lips to hers.  

“Do you want to try it?”  He only asks when her cheeks are flushed and she’s near gasping for breath, staring up at him with pupils blown wide and swollen lips.  

“Try what?” She asks, voice breathy and so unlike her it takes her half a minute to realize that it’s her lips that move.  Only then does she hear the familiar hum of the hammer moving through the air, and when it comes to rest in Thor’s outstretched, waiting hand he plants it firmly on the bed, right where the makeshift one had been.   _Oh_.  It clicks, and her cheeks burn that it took her so long to realize what he meant, only to grow warmer when she thinks about straddling the leather hilt she’s seen her lover grasp so many times, as familiar as any lover and as sturdy as a pillar of the earth.  

“You--wait, you mean it?”  She asks, eyes seeking his out in surprise.  She’d have thought it’d be sacrilegious or something, to use Mjolnir for something so vulgar, but now that he’s planted the idea in her head she can’t help but size the hammer up.  It’s doable, certainly.  Less flexible than the paltry fake she’d wasted money on, and she bites at her bottom lip as she stares a little longer than strictly necessary at it.  It’s thicker, too, and she can only imagine how full she’ll feel with it inside her, the way that she does whenever _Thor_ is hilt deep within her--.  

“I do.”  He repeats, Natasha not having been entirely cognizant the first time around, and with his hand on the small of her back he directs her in the direction of it.  She reaches out to grasp the lube from the side table.  Is she seriously going to go through with this?  Thor’s hand on the small of her back, rubbing small, sweet circles on her warm flesh tells her she’s strong enough to, that he believes in her, and she swallows the panic that threatens to make her back down.  Squirting a decent amount of lube onto her hand, she slathers it slowly up and down the hilt of the hammer, wondering if it’s just her imagination or if the hammer just ever so slightly shifts as she does.  There’s not time to consider it as she eases herself closer.  

The metal of the hammer-head shocks her when she nears it, sending a delicious bolt of lightning up her thigh and straight to her groin, making her groan and tip her head back.  Thor’s kneeling just behind her, kissing up the column of her throat, biting at the juncture of her throat and her shoulders until she keens and bows her back.  She hardly notices when he hefts her up in his enormous hands and presses the tip of Mjolnir’s handle against her slit.  It’s surprisingly warm, and again another bolt of pleasure shoots up this time aiming at her clit so her vision goes white.  Slowly, he slides her down, the handle firm and unyielding, choking her up as she struggles to remember to breathe.  It doesn’t move with her body the way that Thor’s cock does, but the rigidity, and the chill of Mjolnir’s head against her skin when she finally takes it entirely into her is a welcome change up from what she’s used to.  Thor lets out a breathless keen of his own, nuzzling her neck, beard scratching her skin deliciously as he runs a worshipful hand over her smooth thigh.  

“You are exquisite, my love,” he whispers, breath warm as he latches onto her throat to suck, hard.  It leaves a mark that sends her reeling, hips bucking and walls tightening around the firm leather.  One of Thor’s hands circles around to press against her clit, rubbing in small, tight circles until she’s hardly breathing at all, bouncing herself shallowly on Mjolnir for want of more friction and pleasure.  

“You’re-- _huff_ \--going to drive me insane,” she gasps, turning her head to face him as best she can, cheeks red and lips parted as she sucks in as much oxygen as she can get, sure it’ll never be enough.  

“Then you’ll be joining me there.  Seeing you with Mjolnir, Natasha.  My love,” he groans and bites at the bottom of her ear, sucking it until she can’t see straight.  He pulls away to let her ride the hammer a little while longer, his thumb leaving her clit so he can lean back to get a better view.  She hardly has the thought to turn and watch him as she goes before she hears the jostling of him nearing and a cold finger, slicked up with lube, is pressed to the pucker of her ass.  She tenses for half a second before relaxing at his request, his lips warm as he kisses his way down her shoulder and eases his finger inside her.  It doesn’t take long, the pair of them having gone at it the other night for hours, and she’s still loose enough that it’s only a matter of minutes before he’s easing his cock into her and she has to force herself to be still and not explode in a fit of pleasure and sensation.  It’s not easy, especially not when he starts thrusting shallowly into her, lifting her up and down on Mjolnir with every shift of his hips.  The shocks start up again, forcing her first orgasm from her with the force of a punch to the gut.  Thor takes her hands in his, holding her tight as he eases her through it, murmuring for her to keep breathing as he slows down.  

It’s only when she’s regained some semblance of a level head, that her vision returns to her in shapes rather than blurred outlines, that he begins to go to town.  His thrusts are sharp and near shake her bones out of alignment, while Mjolnir’s handle centers her, keeps her in place.  He can release her and fuck into her with abandon without having to worry about her moving, the hammer cemented to its place until Thor decides to move it again.  She’s not sure she wants him to, not minding if it becomes a permanent fixture on their bed.  Natasha’s head is spinning, and she turns her head to capture Thor’s lips with her own, holding onto the side of his head as he pushes her to orgasm again and again, never tiring, and Mjolnir never softening or giving her a reprieve from strange shocks that she’s grown to love, wondering if Thor feels the same sensations when he brings her to battle.  For a couple hours they bleed together, Thor and his faithful weapon, the extension of himself as familiar as the same fingers that hold her tight by the hips and massage her breasts when he slows down.  For a couple hours Natasha can’t be sure there aren’t two of them, two lovers to care for her, easing her over hill after hill of pleasure and sensation until her mind short circuits and she seems to fall away from her body.  Thor’s hips snap hard against hers, their bodies sweaty, slick from their love making so that when he finally does come and presses hard against her it’s _hot_ and _perfect_ and she comes _yet again_ with a scream that tears at already hoarse vocal chords.  

She can’t be sure when he pulls her free from Mjolnir, only that she regrets the loss, groaning as she feels empty, even though he’s still buried within her.  He keeps her in his lap, thumbs working their way down the once uptight muscles of her back, smoothing out what little tension is left just beneath her shoulder blades where she holds all her struggles, and she smiles, head lolling forward onto her chest as he works.  It’s perfect, and he kisses her soft, rapidly cooling skin for a couple more minutes as he works, only pulling out and away from her to tuck her under the covers and kiss her forehead.  She catches his wrist before he can disappear entirely.  

“Thanks,” she rasps with what little voice she has left.  He grins, shooting a look at the now pathetic looking toy she’d been playing with earlier.  

“Thank _you_ ,” he replies, kissing her slowly, before letting her sleep off her exhaustion.  He’ll join her soon enough, calling Mjolnir to his hand to clean it off and reassess just how often they’ll have to do that again.  

 

 


End file.
